


i will learn to love again (but i will stand a broken man)

by bielefeld



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Elaborations on Past Members' Departures, M/M, Slight Fluff and Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 17:14:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7649521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bielefeld/pseuds/bielefeld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>exo celebrates christmas like any other year, but joonmyun notices how the living room seems to be getting less and less crowded.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i will learn to love again (but i will stand a broken man)

**Author's Note:**

> a canon angsty christmas fic because apparently rewatching exo showtime at this time of the year is a really bad idea. title taken from _broken man_ by boys like girls.

“campout, campout,” baekhyun sing-songs as he and minseok drag yet another mattress to the middle of the dorm’s living room floor. “god, i love christmas campouts.”  
  
jongin chuckles from where he’s sitting, cross-legged on the floor while he and sehun are invested in a shooting game in their psp. “we’re only sleeping together in the living room, hyung, i don’t think this counts as a campout,” he says, snickering at baekhyun who is now plopped down on the mattress.  
  
baekhyun rolls his eyes. “whatever, kimkai. it’s nice though, us doing this every christmas. it strengthens our bond. i feel like bonding right now.” he sees kyungsoo coming out of the kitchen with a tray of hot chocolate and marshmallows. “kyungsoo-yah, come here and _bond with me_.” he wiggles his eyebrows seductively and licks his lips for good measure.  
  
kyungsoo promptly shrieks. “chanyeol, i think you haven’t fulfilled baekhyun’s  _weekly dose of banging_ this week. he’s emitting sexual noises right now and i don’t want tonight to be _exo_   _christmas special orgy campout_.”  
  
jongdae quirks a brow, looking up from his laptop. “cool name. exo showtime’s second season, yes or yes?” and kyungsoo bows in mock salute before plopping next to jongin when minseok and baekhyun roar in laughter.  
  
joonmyun laughs along at the whole exchange, smiling at the festive spirit of the whole room. it’s been a miracle, this whole day—exo were let out way too early from today’s schedule, with a message from their manager to  _“have fun, brats, you deserve a little break.”,_ so they all unanimously decided to head home and start working on their yearly christmas living room campout.  
  
this year, they have time to decorate their resident christmas tree  _and_ their whole living room. earlier, chanyeol and jongin had stopped by a christmas decorations store and bought heaps of tinsels, ribbons, and a fresh batch of poinsettias (jongin had also sneaked in three cans of snow spray just for the hell of it). kyungsoo had dusted out some little stocking ornaments they hung above the fireplace last year, and jongdae had also brought out endless strings of lights to tape around the living room walls.  
  
however, joonmyun’s smile falters when he sees baekhyun walking out of a room with yixing’s scented candles. baekhyun catches the look in their leader’s eyes and smiles apologetically. “i’ll buy lay-hyung another batch before he gets back,” he says, “sorry. i thought christmas without candles would feel less christmas-y, you know?”  
  
joonmyun smiles and pats the younger’s head, which is now hung low like a kicked puppy. “don’t make that face, you did nothing wrong. go, place them on the table and help chanyeol with the tree.” baekhyun flashes a thumbs up as he dashes to the table, and quickly making his way down to chanyeol when he sees the taller male trying to choke jongin with a tacky purple tinsel.  
  
it’s not like there’s anything wrong with someone taking someone else’s things without permission— _all_ the members do that, already kicking politeness and courtesy out the door years ago—but now joonmyun can’t help but notice how their living room has become less and less crowded.  
  
twelve, eleven, and now  _eight_.  
  
joonmyun remembers how he tries to smile when yixing announced in one of their skype group calls that he won’t make it to korea for christmas this year. he remembers how the others expressed their disappointment, and the guilty, crestfallen look on yixing’s face. so _no_ , joonmyun didn’t protest. instead, he said, “take care, yixing. eat a lot and wear warm clothes, don’t catch a cold, okay?”  
  
and joonmyun smiles. joonmyun smiles because that’s what joonmyun can do best.

 

 

 

 

  
the first time joonmyun cries on stage, the members jokingly protested about how he makes the ugliest face when he cries. “really, hyung,” chanyeol said back then, when they were backstage after the show, “i was  _this_ close to laughing at your face if i didn’t have my own snot and tears preventing me to do so.”  
  
joonmyun snorted to his tissue. “it’s not like i can help it, we won first place! and just  _look at you guys_ —all teary-eyed. and look—tao is  _still crying_ and no one bats an eyelash!” he pointed to said man, who was curled up on the sofa with sehun comforting him, stroking circles on his back.  
  
“it’s because tao can control his crying face to still look cute on camera,” baekhyun piped in, as if helping anything in the process, “meanwhile your face goes all cuckoo and distorted like—” and baekhyun proceeded to put on his best crying face imitation, gaining laughter from the others and joonmyun admitted that if  _that_ ’s what he had looked like just now, he solemnly regretted it.  
  
“you need to smile more, hyung,” tao chimed in, his face still red and tear-stricken but his sobs had stopped considerably, “fans like it when you smile.” hums of approval were heard around the room, but before joonmyun could say anything, their manager called them out to inform that their vans had arrived.  
  
joonmyun couldn’t help but smile as he watched the members racing one another to the van (with screams and hollers of “dibs on the front seat!” from sehun and “oh no you don’t, brat” from luhan), pushing one another to claim their preferred seats. he hoisted his duffel bag further up on his shoulder as he walked in a leisurely pace, and stifled a chuckle when he saw chanyeol literally lifting baekhyun off the ground—“move, tiny”—and placed the smaller male out of the ruckus. “you heartless  _giant_ —”, he heard baekhyun wail and chanyeol practically booming with laughter.  
  
he thought he was the last of them that hadn’t gotten into the vehicle, so he didn’t expect a warm hand landing on his shoulder. he jumped and looked back, and eased to the touch when he saw who did it.  
  
“hi, crybaby,” yifan said with a laugh, and a pout instantly made it onto joonmyun’s lips. “not you too,” he grumbled, but let yifan pull him into his embrace with one arm anyway.  
  
the older chuckled. “nah, i’m just messing with you. i had a pretty ugly crying face too, but the camera was too focused on you so you’re the one getting all the credit.”  
  
joonmyun huffed, blowing a part of his bangs. “thanks,” he supplied, clearly annoyed even though it wasn’t yifan’s fault. but yifan laughed again, and joonmyun would lie if he said it’s not one of his most favorite sounds in the world.  
  
he might be upset at the members, but with yifan, it never lasts long.  
  
“zitao’s right, though,” yifan said, his fingers finding their way to joonmyun’s and laced it together. joonmyun looked at the taller man, question evident in his hazelnut eyes, and his breath hitched as yifan leaned closer.  
  
 “you have a really nice smile, “ yifan said, his breath fanning against joonmyun’s cheekbones, “you should do it more often.”  
  
and when yifan flashed him his trademark gummy smile, he smiled back because it’s the right thing to do.  
  
from then on, joonmyun promised himself to try his best to smile under any circumstances.  
  
joonmyun would always smile because yifan said that’s what joonmyun can do best.  
  
for yifan, he would.

 

 

 

 

  
despite his lanky and gangly figure, chanyeol actually does wonders in the kitchen. he teams up with kyungsoo to make a hearty christmas dinner while the others are sprawled out on the dinner table doing kinds of ritualistic chants—“so the food would come out _faster_ ,” baekhyun retorts when asked and gets hit with a cabbage flying out from kyungsoo’s hand.  
  
joonmyun decides to contribute by washing vegetables and chopping carrots under kyungsoo’s watch, as he tries not to remember how yifan would backhug him every time he’s helping in the kitchen.  
  
“you’re so tiny,” yifan used to say, resting his chin on top of joonmyun’s head. joonmyun only hummed in response, delicate hands unhalted in the process of cutting vegetables. “you’re so tiny and cute and i’m really in love with you.”  
  
“don’t you have table setting duties?” joonmyun asked instead, his body unconsciously moving to search for the warmth of yifan’s chest, “kyungsoo’s gonna get mad if he sees you here.”  
  
“i’ve already done it. minseok asked me to stay and help him fold the napkins though, but i said i got something better to do,” yifan answered, gaining a little laugh from joonmyun. “like backhugging me?”  
  
“exactly.”  
  
joonmyun snuggled further.  
  
“you smell like my shampoo,” yifan said. he then slumped his body a little to let his nose travel down joonmyun’s neck, and smiled when joonmyun’s body stiffened at the act.  
  
joonmyun remembers the faint scent of mint from yifan’s shampoo that he used to love, and how he decidedly washed his hair with that shampoo on purpose that day.  
  
“yifan, no, it’s christmas campout night,” joonmyun said, unable to hide the glee from his voice. yifan planted butterfly kisses to his nape and joonmyun smiled cheekily.  
  
yifan grunted in response. “you fucking tease. if this were any other night, you wouldn’t have been in the kitchen at the moment.”  
  
joonmyun laughed. “you love me, i know.”  
  
“kris hyuuuung! luhan is picking on me  _again_!”  
  
joonmyun and yifan both shared a glance, and laughed. “taotao,” yifan muttered.  
  
joonmyun stepped forward to release himself from yifan’s embrace. he smiled cheekily as he turned to the older male, acting out dramatically, “go, oh sweet, sweet clark kent, save the day.”  
  
yifan cackled at him, before running out of the kitchen screaming profanities at luhan. “luhan, you little shit—”  
  
and joonmyun laughed.  _if i live through this kind of christmas every year of my life,_ he thought to himself,  _i’d be the happiest person in the world._

 

 

 

 

 

dinner is very lively, with baekhyun leading a game of “who’s gonna get the largest piece of meat” determined by rock-paper-scissors, an all-time favorite. screams of despair are heard around the table as the huge chunk of meat ends up on sehun’s plate.  
  
“sehun, you can’t even eat that much,” jongdae prompts, not even bothering to hide the hungry look in his eyes.  
  
“yeah, you can always share, we’re here for you,” jongin bats his eyelashes together, gaining a maniacal laugh from sehun who also elbows his ribs for good measure.  
  
“fuck no,” sehun laughs, getting up from his chair and bringing his plate with him. “hyungs, i’m gonna go eat inside my blanket fort and enjoy my share of meat without jongin and jongdae staring me down, okay?” he says as he trails off.  
  
the grumbling mass soon disperses, each of them finding a comfortable spot to enjoy their meal while occasionally conversing across the living room. joonmyun watches as sehun happily gobbles down his meat.  
  
“sehun looks joyful tonight,” a voice beside him startles him a little bit, but joonmyun doesn’t show it. “yeah,” he replies, eyes trained onto a smiling minseok plopping down beside him on the sofa with his plate. “it’s nice to see him finally warming up again,” minseok supplies.  
  
joonmyun winces as he remembers finding sehun, a sobbing mess on his bed, refusing to eat dinner or even shower when zitao left earlier this year.  
  
he doesn’t realize that he hasn’t given any answer to minseok until the latter says, “the living room’s getting larger.”  
  
joonmyun lets out a strangled laughter—he doesn’t know if it’s a choke or a sob. “you noticed,” he replies, head hanging low as he focuses on playing with the food on his plate. minseok hums in response.  
  
“i’m never going to get used to this,” joonmyun mutters under his breath, quiet, but somehow minseok catches it, as he lifts his head to stare at his leader. minseok chuckles, leaning backwards on his seat to stare at the ceiling. “trust me, joonmyun, i know exactly how you feel.”  
  
joonmyun remembers how he found a little line of light coming out from a bedroom on last year’s christmas campout, while he was on his way to the bathroom. he was going to ignore it when he heard a stifled sob from behind the unclosed door, to find minseok biting down a pillow, a tear-stricken disaster.  
  
“i can’t, joonmyun,” minseok said that night, “ _i can’t_.”  
  
joonmyun could only hug the eldest, hoping the warmth from his embrace could calm him down.  
“the whole night, i saw baekhyun and chanyeol bickering, tao and sehun meddling with each other’s business, jongin and kyungsoo  _cuddling_ , and i feel so alone, so  _out of place_ , and—” joonmyun could feel the fabric of his shirt being gripped tight, but he didn’t complain.  
  
and minseok let out a little whimper, so heartwrenching that joonmyun felt suffocated. “luhan,” minseok whispered weakly, voice muffled by joonmyun’s shoulder, “luhan’s never coming back, is he?”  
  
a part of joonmyun wanted to shake the life out of minseok and scream  _fuck you, hyung, yifan left me too_ , but another part of him knew better not to.  
  
the sob that incessantly threatened to escape out of joonmyun’s throat was finally let go when he eventually reached the bathroom, turning the tap on so no one could hear him.  
  
he promised yifan not to cry in front of anyone.  
  
he had nearly lost it when he felt a tear threatening to fall from the corner of his eye at the last sentence minseok said before he left for the bathroom.  
  
_“to them, they lost a bandmate, but to me, i lost the world.”_

 

 

 

 

  
“it’s secret santa timeee!” jongin sing-songs excitedly, practically galloping towards the christmas tree. chanyeol laughs, slinging his arm around joonmyun’s shoulder as the rest of them are herded to said tree by kyungsoo. joonmyun follows with an amused smile on his lips.  
  
they all sit cross-legged on the floor as baekhyun gives out instructions. “everyone get your own gift from under the tree and pick a paper from the lottery—if you get your own name, throw it back in and get another one!”  
  
joonmyun watches yet another stampede unfolding before his eyes—the members see everything as a competition, apparently, even when it’s clearly not. he turns his head in time to see jongin clawing his way to the front to grab his gift, only to be stolen by kyungsoo, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he ran across the room clutching the gift from jongin’s prying hands.  
  
_even kyungsoo is more lively tonight,_ joonmyun muses, tucking his chin into his turtleneck, _christmas must really do wonders._  
  
minseok trots over, handing over joonmyun’s gift when fiddling with his own as he sits beside him, snuggling at him playfully. joonmyun throws him a friendly hug as the commotion dies down and everyone is seated in a circle.  
  
(joonmyun notices how small the circle is with only eight person present to form it, and he tries really hard not to.)  
  
“okay, now,” baekhyun clears his throat, “minseok-hyung, you go first.”  
  
“okay,” minseok answers giddily, opening the flap of the folded paper, glee evident on his face as he reads the name written on it, “chanyeollie!”  
  
the man in question promptly stands up and hands the gift over to minseok with a goofy smile plastered on his lips.  
  
joonmyun hears sehun hollering beside him, “hey, didn’t minseok-hyung also get chanyeol-hyung for his secret santa back in exo showtime?”  
  
murmurs of realization follow one after another at that sentence. “oh my god, you’re right,” baekhyun says, “chanyeol got him a cute little book!”  
  
minseok laughs as he lets his arm wrap briefly around chanyeol’s neck, “yeah, a really handy scheduler. i still use it to this day.”  
  
jongdae snorts. “ugh, how nice. meanwhile yours truly right here got the  _most useless_   _gift of all time._ ”  
  
baekhyun promptly lets out a dramatic gasp. “my  _selfie_ is not  _useless_ , kim jongdae, i devoted  _my whole being_ to you—didn’t you see the message that was in the box along with it?”  
  
jongdae stands up, now laughing in amusement. “your  _‘am i pretty? i’m yours from now on~’_? oh i sure as hell do remember,” he retorts, gaining laughter from the others.  
  
“the gift was meant for chanyeol, actually, thank you very much,” baekhyun shouts as he pillows his head on the comfort of chanyeol’s thigh, “so don’t get your hopes up, jongdae.” he then proceeds to make kissy faces at jongdae, in which the latter replies by acting out a vomit.  
  
“i really wish we have the opportunity to go on vacation together again someday,” sehun says, a hopeful glint in his eyes, “i really enjoyed it when we went to the beach for showtime.”  
  
“oh god,  _yes_ ,” jongin cries, perking up from his seat, glasses drooping down his nose and he bashfully fixes it. “i wouldn’t mind going there again.”  
  
“and watch me and jongdae-hyung persistently trying to cook meat in the wind while you guys contribute nothing to help?” kyungsoo playfully elbows him from the side, and jongin whines but recovers quickly.  
  
“oh, oh, we should  _totally_ do another  _yaja_ time,” sehun supplies, and jongin cackles when the older members groan in despair.  
  
“yeah,” jongin manages between his laughter, “i  _love_ to boss all of you around for once, and see the look on kris-hyung’s face when he  _doesn’t understand a single shit_ —”  
  
a stern stare from chanyeol and a side jab from kyungsoo are more than enough to stop him from talking any further. “i’m sorry,” he whispers, guilt evidently coating his words.  
  
the silence in the air is already thick when jongdae finally sighs, throwing his back down to the wooden floor. “things will never be the same, huh?”  
  
the stiffness hanging heavily in the air perfectly voices out everything that’s left unsaid.

 

 

 

 

  
it has been a unanimous agreement among the remaining members to avoid  mentioning yifan, luhan, and zitao under any circumstances.  
  
“time heals,” joonmyun remembers minseok saying, a few weeks after yifan’s departure. joonmyun didn’t have the  _strength_ to lead the members’ pre-concert meeting, slumping against luhan’s shoulder who unendingly murmured “it’s okay”, a calming whisper to his ear. minseok continued, “as long as we minimize the mention of his name, i’m sure that in time,  _this_  is gonna heal.”  
  
they were all gathered in kyungsoo and sehun’s shared hotel room, on one rainy night in hongkong. the lost planet tour was going on full-blast, three down in seoul and despite being given a few days break, joonmyun couldn’t find enough sanity and will to even go on.  
  
the hotel room was fairly spacious, but joonmyun felt suffocated.  
  
“but,” yixing called out weakly, “i’m not sure i’ll be able to let this pass. to  _forget_ this seems near to impossible.”  
  
“i’m not asking you to forget,  _god no_ ,” minseok interjected. strain was visible in his voice, and joonmyun could see a pellet of tear brimming in his eyes, “it’s just— _ugh_ , i don’t know—we’re still in the middle of tour.  we should at least  _try_ to be as festive as we are, even though we certainly don’t want to.”  
  
“for the fans,” baekhyun added from his spot on the sofa, “anything for the fans.”  
  
it’s hard, really, being an idol, joonmyun thought. it’s like signing a contract to put on a mask on stage for the rest of your life.  
  
however, they wouldn’t need to hide anything in front of one another. free to laugh, free to bicker, free to exchange knowing glances without rumors spreading around, free to  _kiss_ , for god’s sake, whenever they feel like it.  
  
and also, they’re free to cry.  
  
joonmyun looked around. jongin was already sobbing silently into a pillow, with zitao coaxing him gently even though he’s not much better himself. chanyeol’s usually lively eyes were dead, expression crestfallen.  
  
joonmyun wanted to cry too, but he didn’t. he promised.  _he promised_.  
  
instead, he kept the mask on.  
  
“i know we lost a leader,” he said, after finally finding his voice. it quivered considerably, but joonmyun couldn’t bring himself to care. “and a great one at that. but we can’t just mourn and expect things to get better. we should still keep our spirits up—not only for the fans, but also to ourselves—because life goes on. life  _fucking_ goes on. life is  _fucking cruel_ but there’s nothing we can do about it. crying doesn’t help. moping doesn’t help. what helps is that we accept this and move on. yif— _he_  will always hold a special place in our hearts, in our team, but as fucking bitter as it is, we need to fucking move on.”  
  
joonmyun realized that the most part of that speech was actually him coaxing himself but he didn’t fucking care.  
  
the room was silent after his outburst (and joonmyun congratulated himself for not breaking down in front of the members) until minseok murmured, quiet but enough for everyone to hear. “time heals,” he repeated over and over, glancing at joonmyun, vision blurred with his tears, “time heals.”  
  
joonmyun wanted to believe.  
  
it’s ironic, joonmyun thought, the way he repeated the exact same phrase to minseok on a midnight a few months later, exactly a week after luhan’s departure, in a beat-up bar in the corner of the street where their dorm is, over endless glasses of soju.  
  
“time heals, minseok-hyung,” joonmyun said to the older male, who was busy downing his sixth cup of the night, “time heals.”

 

 

 

 

  
the silence doesn’t last for long as chanyeol quickly perks up and rushes to his room to bring out some board games.  
  
“the loser washes the dishes for a whole week!” baekhyun chirps, setting the pile of cards to the middle of the circle. a snort is heard from kyungsoo and baekhyun gasps.  
  
“i will  _fucking beat your ass_  in poker, kyungsoo.”  
  
kyungsoo smirks. “try me.”  
  
the game ensues along with screams, of course, over cups of hot chocolate and sticks of roasted marshmallows. it ends with a victorious kyungsoo, as expected, and a poor, losing baekhyun.  
  
“whyyyyyyyy,” he whines, getting a knock on the head from jongdae in return. “you’re the one who suggested it, so stop complaining.”  
  
time goes by as the cards are pushed aside to be changed by a board set of monopoly, then a huge stack of uno stacko.  
  
“you’re fucking  _heartless,”_ minseok glares at a snickering jongin who pulls out a “draw two” block right before his turn. strings of curses left the eldest’s lips as the tower wobbles, and crashes to the ground with an echo of despair. jongdae laugh-claps the entire time and baekhyun goes to fetch the rubber hammer, passing it to jongin so that he can give minseok the punishment.  
  
“ _oh kimkai, please be gentle_ ,” minseok jokes, covering the top of his head with his two hands, and jongin makes a gagging noise, “holy shit now you sound like kyungsoo in bed,” and starts swinging the plastic toy towards him.  
  
but kyungsoo dashes to the scene as fast as humanly possible, and thwacks jongin’s head hard before any impact to minseok has been made. chanyeol rolls on the floor laughing maniacally and jongdae is now practically wheezing.  
  
joonmyun laughs as he watches from the sidelines, seeing the red that’s starting to color kyungsoo’s cheeks, remembering how that color used to taint his own on one particular christmas eve when he found out that yifan gifted him matching mittens.  
  
“what the fuck,” was the only thing he managed to say as he observed the baby pink monstrosity on his hands. he glanced over to see the same horrendous print covering yifan’s hands, only his was in baby blue.  
  
“what? it’s cute,” yifan retorted, lifting his hand to inspect it closer, “the pattern reminds me of you.” and joonmyun stared incredulously at the horrible rendition of rudolph in his hands.  _really_.  
  
“so i remind you of ugly things?” joonmyun deadpanned, his expression quickly turning into an amused expression as he watched yifan scrambling to explain what he actually meant.  
  
“no, no, i mean like— _reindeers_ ,” yifan pointed at the distorted deer face on his own mittens, “are cute. like you.”  
  
yifan blushed in a furious shade of red and joonmyun could’ve sworn that his face looked pretty much the same.  
  
“you really have no artistic taste at all, do you?” yifan frowned, and joonmyun laughed, fumbling with his own words. “no, i mean—it’s ugly.  _dead ugly_. but it’s cute that you tried.”  
  
yifan grumbled as he huffed the bangs covering his eyes, and joonmyun found his gaze following the movement. “well, fuck, i should’ve dragged yixing instead of luhan to help me with this.” joonmyun almost dropped down his smug act when he saw yifan deflate like a popped balloon and looking really apologetic. “i’m sorry.”  
  
joonmyun couldn’t help but stride to yifan’s side and snuggled warmly, clutching the taller male’s left arm. “i was just messing with you. no but really, it’s ugly, but thank you. you’re cute. i love you. i love you and your aesthetic-picking skills. or lack thereof.”  
  
yifan thwacked joonmyun’s head playfully before nuzzling even closer, putting his mitten-clad hand on top of joonmyun’s. “i love you too, leader.”  
  
said mittens are now stored in his winter compartment inside his wardrobe. as terrible-looking as it is, it’s the first thing joonmyun sees everytime he opens the drawer to fetch his woolen scarves every winter.  
  
he doesn’t realize himself spacing out until sehun sneaks up beside him on the sofa, making him jolt out of his train of thoughts. “hyung.”  
  
“hi,” a smile finds its way back to joonmyun’s lips as if on cue, “you having fun?”  
  
“i am,” sehun answers, grinning. both he and joonmyun laugh as chanyeol tries to pry off the rubber toy out of kyungsoo’s hands, while jongin scrambles back to hide behind baekhyun in fear.  
  
a comfortable silence falls between them until sehun prompts another conversation. “never thought i’d be happy again since, you know—”  
  
_zitao._  of course joonmyun knows. he smiles apologetically and reaches out to ruffle sehun’s hair. “i know. it’s nice to finally see you warming up to us again.”  
  
sehun sighs, scooting closer and easing to joonmyun’s touch. “i know. i’m sorry i’ve been such a douche. it’s really…hard to believe at first. one night his hands were around my waist and the next morning he’s up with four luggage by his feet.”  
  
“we don’t have to talk about this,” joonmyun says when he sees sehun’s downcast eyes, but the younger shakes his head and continues to babble. “i tried to ask, i really did, but he didn’t even want to look at me. he set his back facing me. when i opened my mouth all he said was ‘ _hun-ah, no. whatever you’re going to say is not going to change what i’m going to do.’,_ ” the pain is evident in the maknae’s eyes, his lips forming a thin, defeated smile. “i actually sort of able to sense that  _the_ day was going to come. i know he’s injured, tired—i can say that i knew all about it better than anyone, better than  _himself_  if i’m being honest, and it  _pains_ me of how much shit he’d had to endure. his parents probably noticed this too so that’s why his father—” sehun’s smile falters just a little bit, but joonmyun notices it all the same, “but i don’t blame him, though. i’d probably do the same thing if i were to know my son didn’t get a proper treatment for his injuries. so i knew that moment would come, eventually. but then it really caught me off guard,” sehun muses. he stares longingly to the distance and it physically pains joonmyun to know how much sehun cares for zitao.  
  
_sehun, like minseok, also lost the world_.  
  
“i’m not, like, mad at him, though,” sehun continues, running his fingers through his hair, “i’m actually still in contact with him. almost everyday, to be honest.” joonmyun perks up at this. “you do?”  
  
a smile. “yeah. he said he’s happy. he’s really sad to leave us, but he’s starting to be happy.” joonmyun puts his smile back on his lips, after being lost along the story. “i’m glad.”  
  
“me too,” joonmyun replies.  
  
sehun sneaks a questioning glance, and joonmyun catches it. “i never blamed him for leaving, sehun. i understand his decision and i respect it. i know it’s for the best. it’s good that he finds joy in what he does right now, and i’m not saying this just because i’m talking to his boyfriend.”  
  
sehun blushes. “i’m glad that he had a good rest, and healed, and healthy and happy. it hurt me, the fact that we’re not going to be as close as we used to be, but if he’s happy, i’m happy for him.”  
  
sehun’s gaze falls to joonmyun’s eyes, and what joonmyun sees next is a sweet, sincere smile. the first one he’s seen from sehun in the last few months. “if he’s happy, then why shouldn’t i be?”  
  
a lot can be seen from behind a human’s eyes and that’s what joonmyun sees when his eyes are locked to sehun’s—a mix of love, hurt, understanding. and  _acceptance_.  
  
_acceptance_. something joonmyun still can’t seem to find, even after two years.  
  
joonmyun wishes he can see this the way sehun sees it. oh, how he really wishes he can.

 

 

 

 

  
it’s almost three in the morning when the members finally crawl up to their laid-out beds, eyes half-lidded and exhaustion trickling into their systems as they make way for their pillows.  
  
the fight for sleeping spots is surprisingly brief this year, joonmyun thinks, and winces when he realizes why.  
  
there are only eight people in a space made for twelve.  
  
joonmyun claims his place, two spots from the far right, nestling comfortably between jongdae and kyungsoo, with almost an arm-length distance from each of them. his pillow feels plush propping his head, and the bi-layer blanket keeps him warm to his toes.  
  
it’s spacious and comfortable, but joonmyun prefers the fully-crammed space with twelve of them here to this.  
  
he hears countless exchanges of goodnights and soft, steady breathings not long after. one by one, they fall into deep slumber.  
  
fatigue starts to wear his bones, but his eyes are wide open. joonmyun cannot bring himself to sleep and  _fuck_ , does his mind wander.  
  
his thoughts fly back to the time in which they were staying overnight in that particular cabin, a winter vacation paid and provided for the sake of exo showtime. he was tired, cameras rolling all day, and  _mask, mask, mask_ , and he couldn’t be more grateful when the cameras stopped filming when it’s time for them to go to bed.  
  
 all he wished was to have a good night’s sleep, but apparently nature didn’t allow him to. the wind was crazy that night—tree branches cracking, wooden floorboards creaking, _everything_  outside made up a ridiculous amount of noise it almost drove him off the edge. “fuck,” he cursed, clearly pissed at how miserable he was, unable to doze off when he needed to wake up and continue filming in a few hours.  
  
an arm snaked its way to joonmyun’s waist and pulled him closer. he felt warm breath tickling the nape of his neck, but joonmyun was too preoccupied with his anger to squirm. “i can’t sleep,” he whined. yifan didn’t ask, but he told him anyway. “the wind is driving me crazy.”  
  
yifan let out a low chuckle before nuzzling onto his hair. “you’re pretty whiny for a leader sometimes, you know that?” joonmyun felt stupid as they’ve done this a thousand times but a blush would make its way to his cheeks unfailingly every single time.  
  
he scooted closer, snuggling comfortably into yifan’s chest, and playfully elbowed him on the ribs. “i don’t show this side of me to  _just anyone_ ,” joonmyun mused, “the members would lose respect on me if they know their leader is as bratty and whiny as sehun.”  
  
that gained a snicker from yifan. he flipped joonmyun to his side so that they were face-to-face, and smiled when he saw the flush across joonmyun’s cheeks. “glad to know that i’m not  _just anyone_.”  
  
“of course not, you chicken-loving ass.”  
  
“you mean joonmyun-loving ass?” yifan suggested, and joonmyun laughed, for real this time. he quickly shut up when yifan glared at him, a stern reminder that they were sharing a room with minseok and luhan, nodding his head towards the two on the other bed.  
  
(earlier, jongdae had joked about how the four oldest members are grouped into one room when the younger ones sleep on the common room floor because of  _old people and their morning back cramps_  but joonmyun didn’t complain).  
  
“you’re an idiot,” joonmyun huffed, blushing a shade darker. he could only be this carefree and childish in front of yifan, and he went all out just for the hell of it. “i hate you.”  
  
“no you don’t. you  _can’t_.” yifan smirked.  
  
“oh  _yes_ i can, and i will prove it.”  
  
yifan only laughed at this as he kissed the furrow between joonmyun’s eyebrows. “now you sound like baekhyun. go back to sleep, junma.”  
  
joonmyun frowned at the nickname but he didn’t say, as yifan absentmindedly started stroking his hair, lulling him to sleep.  
  
“hey, yifan?”  
  
“hmm?”  
  
“my wish for 2014 is for exo to have another great year,” joonmyun said, face solemn. he didn’t know where it came from, but somehow he felt the sudden need to say it.  
  
yifan hummed in approval. “that’s great.”  
  
joonmyun’s eyes opened to reveal a longing gaze. “i want exo to be—i don’t know, _everlasting_?” he rolled out of yifan’s embrace and plopped on his back to face the ceiling. “only two years and i’m already this attached. the members have basically become my second family now, and i’m sure as hell don’t want this family to fall apart.”  
  
yifan looked at him fondly, his blonde fringe fell to cover his sight and he quickly pushed it back. then he followed suit, as if the ceiling joonmyun was staring at was more interesting than any other.  
“believe me, as bad of a leader as i am, i feel the same way as you do,” yifan mused. “i can never imagine my life without these dorks, you know?”  
  
a thin chuckle slipped through yifan’s lips. “without minseok grumbling about how his socks are always mismatched in his and luhan’s shared wardrobe, without yixing scrambling in rapid-fire chinese to every person in the dorm as he seems to forget that two of us in the M are korean, and without zitao screeching as luhan and jongdae pull yet another successful prank at him—”  
  
yifan stopped talking to see joonmyun smiling, prompting him wordlessly to go on. and on he went. “—without the smell of dinner kyungsoo cooks in the kitchen every schedule-less evening, without chanyeol and his somewhat entertaining caveman voice to lighten up every mood, without jongin, along with his monggu, jjanggu, and jjangah he brings to the dorm every summer, without baekhyun and sehun with their antics and pranks, and—”  
  
yifan stops again, and joonmyun’s breath hitched, “—and without  _you_ , the man with a smile so contagious, who never fails to bring out one of my own.”  
  
their kisses are always brief, but the feelings they share linger. it took monumental effort for joonmyun to hold back his tears.  _don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry_. (yifan doesn’t like to see junmyeon cry, so he tried not to.)  
  
they cuddled under the sheets in silence, limbs tangling comfortably, embracing the warmth seeping from each other’s body. joonmyun felt safe, and warm, and  _loved_ —and he would give anything in the world so they could stay like this for a lifetime.  
  
he buried his face into yifan’s chest—the sweet, musky scent from the fabric bedazzling, almost hypnotizing. a surge of emotions started to fill the insides of his chest, leaving him almost no room to breathe. he hid his face further, sinking deeper into yifan’s protective arms, as though a single little movement from the latter would send him bursting into tears.  
  
“i’ll never leave,” joonmyun blurted to yifan’s clothed chest, “exo. or you, in particular if that’s not clear enough.”  
  
joonmyun didn’t know how he could perfectly picture yifan smiling as the older man planted a kiss on top of his head.  
  
“go back to sleep, joonmyun, for real this time. we have a sunrise to catch.”  
  
junmyeon chuckled. “goodnight, duizhang.”  
  
the steady rise and fall of yifan’s chest sent him sleeping, soundly with his heart at ease.

 

 

 

 

  
a drop of tear trickles down joonmyun’s cheek, followed by another. another.  _and another_. heaving a shaky breath, he rolls to his side and shoves a fist onto his mouth to muffle his sobs.  
  
junmyeon cries himself to sleep that night, part because he can finally let loose his bottled up emotions because  _no one is watching_ , and part because of the little pang in his heart when he realizes that this would happen in every christmases to come.  
  
“time doesn’t heal, minseok,” he murmurs through gritted teeth, his tears leaving a salty taste on his tongue but he can’t bring himself to care, “ _time doesn’t fucking heal._ ”

**Author's Note:**

> was originally posted on december 28th last year i'm sorry for the sad christmas (not really).  
> enjoy! ♥
> 
> (also did you realise yifan didn't reply to joonmyun's _i'll never leave_ with the same promise? lol i'm just that cruel i am terribly sorry x)
> 
> twitter: @zituans


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